


Perfect Lie

by lindsey_grissom



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2006-09-15
Updated: 2006-10-31
Packaged: 2017-10-10 13:46:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindsey_grissom/pseuds/lindsey_grissom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>'All it takes for evil to prosper is for good men to do nothing'</i>...When something from the new Director's past turns up in a case, will the team be able to save her life and her career? Personal discoveries are made and opinions changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Where To Start

**Author's Note:**

> Thank yous always to my beta for this [multicolour](http://archiveofourown.org/users/deserts/works). Currently abandoned but for this one, I'm constantly nagged to continue it.

_All it takes for evil to prosper is for good men to do nothing._  
(Edmund Burke)

 

He watched her as she walked into the bedroom, his night vision binoculars allowing him to see her clearly though there was no light. She didn't close the curtains, and he waited while her clothes dropped to the floor. When she slid into a sleek negligee he reached to the side and brought the rifle up before him.

She stepped up to the window, her nightly ritual, but this time it was different. This time when she reached out to pull the glass closed, he was sure their eyes locked. Moments later the sound of a gun shot echoed down the deserted street, and a black car sped off into the night.

***

The elevator opened with a ding and Ziva walked out, her eyes flashing to her watch before looking around the seemingly empty bullpen. Early again. She liked these times; when she could sit at her desk and just appreciate the silence, before Tony came in; a new film watched and ready to be quoted or Gibbs started issuing orders, and there would be no more peace until the case was firmly solved.

Moving across the room, Ziva's eyes slipped closed as she enjoyed the quiet, not needing to see the way around to her desk. Sinking into her seat, eyes still shut, she let out a small sigh.

"Do you always sleep walk?" Tony's voice came out of nowhere and her eyes snapped open, searching and finding him sitting in his own chair; legs up on the desk, and a magazine held in his hands.

"Dammit DiNozzo. You're lucky I didn't shoot you." Tony simply smiled at her, which irritated her all the more. He opened his mouth and she instantly raised her hand. "Don't say anything about me having a sheep."

Tony looked at her strangely for a minute, trying to wrap his mind around what she could mean. At that moment McGee entered the area, slipping a hot coffee onto both Ziva and Gibbs' desks. "Good morning, and it's 'have a cow' Ziva."

Ziva nodded her thanks, and began sipping her drink as McGee moved to his desk. Tony sat silently, looking from Ziva's coffee, to Gibbs' coffee, Tim's coffee, and then back at his empty hand. When he realised no one was paying any attention to him he rose and did a quick search of the room. Not seeing his boss anywhere in sight, he moved slowly over to Gibbs' desk and the untouched coffee that sat there tormenting him.

He groaned in pleasure as the bitter liquid touched his tongue. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten to stop off at the coffee-shop before coming in that morning. Bringing the cup back down, he looked at the others in confusion, they were both watching him, yet neither had said anything about him taking the Boss's coffee. A sly grin slide across his features and he opened his mouth to congratulate himself, but all that came out was a sharp gasp as a hand slapped the back of his head. The coffee was taken from his hand and Tony looked up into the angry eyes of Gibbs.

"Um, hi Boss. I was just testing it, you know, to make sure it was right for you, you know how Pro…er…McGee gets the orders wrong most of the time." Tony spluttered out an excuse, ignoring the twin looks of disbelief on Ziva and Tim's faces.

Gibbs simply stared at him, before holding up the cup.

"Next time read the side DiNozzo." Dreading what he'd find, Tony's gaze moved to where Gibbs was pointing, only to see a list of letters that even he could tell were the accurate specifications for Gibb's drink.

"Sorry Boss." Gibbs glared at him once more, a small huff of air escaping his lips, before he turned towards his desk, and pulled out several files from his drawer. Tony got a good view of the gun that sat there, and he gulped when Gibbs ran his hand over it once before slamming the drawer closed.

"We have a new case. One woman found shot at close range in her backyard. Bullets were run but no known matches found, neither was the gun used found." He threw the first file down onto his desk, giving the others little time to move closer before he started talking again.

"Another woman found with her neck slashed open in her local Park. The authorities didn't find the knife anywhere in the vicinity of the crime scene." Another folder was thrown down, leaving only one still held in his hand.

"And our latest victim; a woman shot dead in the Master Bedroom of her house. Local authorities pin-pointed the source of the shot as coming from someone positioned outside the house, possibly a parked car." The last folder hit the desk with a slap, and he stepped back slightly, watching as the three field agents each looked over the crime scene photographs of one murder.

As he expected McGee was the first to notice something odd in the reports.

"Er, Boss? I mean Gibbs; these women were all found in England, and according to this file the first woman didn't have any connection to the US Navy." Tony and Ziva came to the same conclusion almost instantaneously, and both nodded their agreement.

"None of the women have any obvious connection; method and location where different in all three cases, which is why until this latest victim they weren't even connected with each other, let alone an American agency. That was until a photograph was found in the unopened mail of the last woman, a Miss Eileen Walker, known in her field as…"

"FiFi Flagrante." Tony interrupted. At the silent looks from the others, he tried desperately to defend himself. "It's here in the file." Still the others didn't look convinced, but Ziva broke the silence.

"So she was a Porn Star?"

"Yes, the first victim was a Teacher, and the second owned a small business in London."

McGee spoke again, remembering what Gibb's was about to say.

"So the photograph connected them?" Gibbs smiled slightly before looking at his watch.

"According to the London Metropolitan Police, the photograph showed a number of women, with 'X's across the images of these three. On the back was a list of names and a message stating that the murderer was after the person who ruined their career, and that they wouldn't stop until they had found and killed the person that had reported them. In the same envelope was a Navy issued Medal for Bravery. Our guy was a Marine and the people in London think he's headed back to US soil for his next victim." Gibbs took back the files and placed them once more in the top drawer, removing his gun before locking it.

"Miss Walker's body, the latest crime scene evidence and the photograph in question were shipped over from London yesterday, and should be arriving in our Morgue…" He paused checking his watch one last time. "Now." No one moved and Gibbs gave the team an angry sweep with his eyes. "Why are you still here?"

Several mumbles later and he stood in the centre of an empty bullpen. With a satisfied smile he brought the coffee cup up to his mouth and swallowed down the contents. He loved starting the day with caffeine and orders.

***

Dr Mallard; Ducky to those who knew better, stared down at the poor woman on his table. It was rare that he be asked to perform a second autopsy, especially on someone that was not, by any definition, naval personnel, and most definitely not on someone who had had as many cosmetic operations as this woman had. He could count at least five from a simple preliminary examination; the nose, both breasts, her mouth, and some stretching of the skin around her eyes.

"The things people do to look young. But I'm afraid, my dear, that your age is still visible to me."

Hearing the slide of the Morgue doors opening, Ducky turned and pointed straight to the large box that stood in the corner of the room.

"That came with our lady, I believe it is what Jethro has sent you down here for." Tony approached the box first, while Ziva and McGee moved to stand beside him, looking at the woman.

"The cause of death was most certainly from the gunshot, from the position of the entry wound, right here above her left eye, I would say that death was instantaneous, she would have been dead before she knew she'd been shot."

The door opened once more for the entrance of Gibbs and Ducky turned away from the body once again.

"Jethro, I was just telling your young agents that our victim would have been dead before she knew anything was wrong. She actually reminds me of a woman I once knew in England. She was quite partial to cosmetic surgery herself, kept asking me if being a doctor I could perform a few operations for her, she was very persistent, offered quite a lot in return, but still I couldn't…"

"Ducky save that story for another day, one where we do not have an International murder investigation on our hands. Tony, why has this box not been passed down to Abby already?" Tony looked up from where he stood, bent over the open box of evidence.

"Boss, I think you should speak to the Director before anyone else sees this." As he said it, Gibbs noticed the evidence bag Tony held in his hand, the one containing the photograph.

"And why Agent DiNozzo, do you think I should do that?" Gibbs' voice was hard as steel, and just has sharp. He didn't like being told by his agents what he should and should not do.

Tony looked at the others quickly, hoping to draw some strength from them, he knew he was right on this one but still, he hated when his boss used that voice.

"Because she's in it Sir."


	2. Everything I Own

_When you start falling  
Who's gonna catch ya?  
I'm willing to betcha  
It will be me_  
(It Will Be Me, Kristin Chenoweth)

 

_"There's something about him. I know it's wrong; he's my new partner, there are rules against it and he's married. But that doesn't mean I can't think about it, does it? That I can't dream about him. The way he walks into a room, catching everyone's attention without noticing, the way his eyes flash with intensity. What would those eyes look like filled with passion? Would they flash for me? I've dreamt that they do. That he walks up to me in the office; powerful, and in his mind there's no one else there but me. Our lips would lock hot and hard, he'd taste of coffee and strength, and it would just be the two of us. Lost in our own world, tongues fighting a battle neither of us would mind losing. We wouldn't be Agent and Agent, we'd be simply, completely Man and Woman. Sometimes I imagine what it would be like to be held in his arms. Just held, I can't let myself think further than a kiss and an embrace. Not yet. But to be protected by his body holding mine, his arms around my waist holding me close. It's not too much to ask is it? For him to want me like that._

Of course, I know it is, that's why it only ever happens in my mind. It's going to be hard working with him, and having these feelings. Maybe they'll fade the more I know him. It's only an attraction after all. I so hope they fade because I know he'll never want me that way. He's married after all."

 

Jen closed the book softly, her mind going over and over the words she'd written there years before. It had been dangerous, going undercover and still keeping a journal. But she'd needed it to keep her sane. To release the deepest and sometimes darkest thoughts that she knew she could never speak aloud to anyone else.

Ever since starting as Director, and seeing him again after so many years, she'd kept returning to that diary. It was a record of their relationship, from that very first meeting, to the moment he walked away. She hadn't been able to look at it once he left, so a new book had been bought and the old one hidden away, a grim echo of what had been happening in her heart. Now she looked back on her words, and wondered how she could have been so naïve, so impulsive to run into something without really thinking it through.

She had that to thank him for. She was far more cautious now then she's been then, and her heart has suffered less for it.

Closing her eyes, she could still envision those dreams, only now she could see the scars she knew his body held, could smell the lingering scent of the aftershave he swore he never used but that was always there in the bottom of his bag. And she felt his arms slip around to rest on her stomach, not her waist, but always holding her protectively on her stomach. Sighing, she opened her eyes again; shaking off the thoughts she knew would do nothing more than distract her. Sometimes she hated just how easy it was to remember the time they'd spent together, when it was so much harder to remember who she had been before him.

The journal was placed in her desk once more, she couldn't afford anymore distractions today, but tomorrow, there was a memory of a stakeout she wanted to revisit.

Reaching across her desk, she pulled the top few files from her inbox. She still wasn't sure what she hated more; writing case reports, or reading them. Pen held in hand, the tip rolling back and forth on her lips, she opened the first folder and prepared herself to focus, and noticing the extended autopsy report; not to fall asleep. She was going to need a lot of coffee today.

Just as she finally worked out what DiNozzo meant, half the words lost beneath what she assumed was spilt burrito sauce, she heard the sound of her receptionist's voice raised in frustration before her office doors were thrown open, and the man from her thoughts burst in.

"Jethro?" It wasn't unusual for him to tear into her office, at least now her secretary didn't feel that it was her fault that he didn't listen. What was unusual was the silence after his arrival. Usually one of them would start talking instantly; but as she went over the last few days in her mind, she knew that this time, she hadn't done anything wrong. Perhaps this was just a social…her mind backtracked over itself. Wrong? She never did anything wrong, just because it wasn't what he wanted didn't make her decisions wrong. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at his silent form. He had her too well trained, that even in her mind she believed him over herself.

Gibbs had moved on autopilot, Tony's words circling his head. From the moment he'd snatched the photograph out of his hand, and seen her face for himself, he hadn't thought of anything except getting to her. He told himself it was because he wanted answers, but somewhere in him he knew that he'd needed to make sure she was okay. That just because he hadn't seen her arrive at the building didn't mean she was lying dead somewhere. The fact that he was standing in front of her now, was the only evidence he had in his mind that he'd reached her office. He really couldn't remember getting there. He looked at her, seeing her for the first time as a Director; her black skirt suit, was conservative, but cut just right to show off the curves he knew hid beneath it. It was hard to balance this new Jen with the one he remembered, and even harder with the one in the picture he held in his hand. But they were all one woman, one complicated multi-layered woman. He wasn't sure how to approach this. It hadn't been hard to guess just what connected the women in the photograph. The fishnet stockings, the silk and lace bodices, he'd seen them on the streets of Paris, Cairo, and he was certain that London was no purer. Still; this was Jen, why had she never mentioned this before? Gibbs was so lost in his thoughts; he didn't notice his own uncommon silence.

Getting irritated by his silence, and her own thoughts, Jen switched gears, and stood up from her chair, leaning forward to rest her hands on the desk in front of her.

"Special Agent Gibbs. Was there a reason for your unscheduled appearance in my office?"

Gibbs was shocked for a moment, not expecting the anger in her voice. So he'd burst in uninvited, he'd been doing it for her. She wouldn't want everyone in the building to know about this before she herself did. And she repaid him with attitude.

Angry now himself, his eyes focused on her again and he threw the plastic coated photograph down onto the table, watching as it slid across the polished surface, stopping in the space between her hands.

Jen looked down in confusion. Jethro still hadn't spoken, and it was unnerving her…nothing good ever came when he wasn't barking at someone.

At first she wasn't sure what she was seeing. Looking at it as an investigator, she searched for any information that could explain why it was so urgent for her to look at she noticed something familiar, one of the woman, she recognised her. She picked the picture up, bringing it closer to her eyes, and felt her blood freeze as she ran her gaze over each person, dreading but knowing what she'd find when she reached the last woman on the right. Sure enough, as her eyes reached the edge of the image, she saw her own face smiling up at her.

Her knees weakened as she realised just what she held in her hand, and she reached blindly for her chair, collapsing into it, her elbows on the desk, her head in her hands.

Her thoughts were swirling, questions bouncing around in her head as a cold wall of dread built up around her. Where had the photograph come from? She'd thought all copies were burnt years ago, all traces should have disappeared; there shouldn't have been any trails left to follow.

Her heart beat faster, and she felt the rise of tears at the back of her eyes when she thought about what this would do to her career. She would be ruined. She didn't care that she sounded dramatic, even to herself, she had worked so hard to get where she was, and now, when she had settled and was finally happy, professionally at least, it was all going to come crashing down around her. How would she look her colleagues in the eyes after this? She'd see the looks in their eyes, and know exactly what they were thinking. It was hard enough now; being the first female Director she knew what rumours where going around. She knew what people whispered about when they thought her out of hearing range. But after this, she'd never survive it. The only good thing would be that she wouldn't have to for long; they wouldn't let her hold her current position for long, no matter the reasoning. She continued to hold back the tears, she would not cry over this.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she heard a throat clear, and suddenly she remembered that she wasn't alone in the room. Jethro.

If it were possible, the thought of him knowing made her feel even worse. No wonder he had been behaving unusually, it was not everyday that one saw their ex-partner in a picture of prostitutes.

Gibbs watched Jen, his anger lessoning slightly as he saw her reaction. When she collapsed into the chair defeated, his first reaction was to go to her and offer any comfort he could. But he'd seen that picture, and he could tell that it hadn't been taken more than ten years ago. From his clear memories of her, knew it could have been around the time they'd first started working together. He'd not inquired too much about her background before they'd been partnered, now though, he thought perhaps he should have been more curious.

He cleared his throat, wanting answers and tiring of waiting, he barely noticed the small jump she made at the sound, vaguely he wondered if she'd forgotten he was there.

Jen pulled herself together, raising her head and levelling her gaze on her Senior Field Agent. She had questions she needed answering and she couldn't let her personal torment get in the way. One look in his eyes and her resolve crumbled. Her gaze slid away to rest on a mark on the wall just above his shoulder and she waited for the words she knew would come. Her questions would have to wait until he'd gotten out whatever he needed to, it wasn't fair, it wasn't right, but it was Jethro.

He noticed how she couldn't look at him, and it confirmed his belief. It really was what he thought, and she didn't eve have the strength to stand up for herself. He was angry that she'd never told him, after all she had said to him about his inability to share, and she'd kept something like this from him. Of course, he didn't think to ask when exactly the picture had been taken, so he didn't know for sure that it had occurred before they'd met, but surely there would be no reason for her to have stooped to that after Paris.

"Why didn't you tell me?" His voice snapped across the room like a whip, crackling with everything he wasn't saying.

"What did you want me to do? Just come up to you and tell you. I couldn't do that Jethro, there are things that I can't tell anyone, this was one of them." She pleaded with her voice, she hated the disappointment she could hear in his.

Gibbs couldn't believe her. She really wasn't the person he believed her to be. He had loved her back in Paris, but he was finding that it was all based on a lie.

"How about starting with, 'Before we sleep together I think you should know that I used stand on street corners for a living.'" He spat the words out with so much venom he scared himself, but he wouldn't back down now, not until he knew it all.

Jen's eyes flashed to his as soon as she heard his words. She couldn't believe he thought that she had actually been doing that before joining the Navy. That she would have done that for anything but direct orders. With the understanding of his thoughts came an anger all of her own, and she moved from her chair to stand directly in front of him, her steps deliberate and measured.

Gibbs looked down at her, slightly scared of the sudden change in mood. He'd expected her to cower under his words, not suddenly transform into the volatile woman now glaring at him.

"You bastard. I can not believe that you of everyone could think that I would do…that, of my own choice…I just…how could you? I was ordered to do it Gibbs. It was an undercover operation that had to be kept secret, to discover who was leaking Navy information out in London. I fit the specification and they sent me to do it. It's not on my records; it's not on any records, until now it didn't exist at all except in my memory." She was still glaring at him, her breath coming out in short sharp puffs, but she could feel her eyes watering again. How could he really have thought that of her? And if he had believed that so quickly, what hope did she have against people that didn't know her the way he did?

Gibbs stood still in shock of what he had heard. He knew Jen wasn't lying, what she said made so much sense, and he couldn't believe the things his own mind had come up with. She had a right to be angry at him, he should have known her better than that. He'd almost out-right called her a Prostitute before even waiting for her explanation. Still, why hadn't she told him, in all the time they'd been together?

As though reading his thoughts, Jen spoke again, her voice lower and cracking slightly.

"I wasn't allowed to tell anyone, and I couldn't have told you before Paris, because I wasn't assigned until after you… just after." Selfishly, Gibbs wanted her to stop talking, because with every word that left her mouth, his guilt over the last few minutes intensified. He raised his arm, intending to reach out for her, when her head snapped up as though something had just occurred to her.

"You never told me where you found that picture." With those words, Gibbs' own fear returned. The Murderer was after the person who put him in jail…he was looking for Jen.

Seeing Jethro's face pale, Jen began to grow more concerned. She really hoped that the photograph wasn't already circulating the building.

"It was evidence in our new case." He paused when she turned confused eyes on him, there was no way to make this easy. "A former US Marine has been murdering women in London, and until they found this picture at the last scene, they didn't know the connection. Jenny, he's after the person that got him stripped of his command. He's after you." He watched as her face paled, and hurried to continue. "That he's been killing these others shows that he doesn't now it's you, but the British forces believe he's on his way back over here, and as soon as he starts looking for you, well, he's going to know that you're the one he wants."

Jen could hardly take in what she was hearing. She was used to putting her life on the line, during her partnership with Jethro they'd been undercover on many dangerous missions, but this was different. This time it was truly personal. It didn't get more personal that being hunted by the person you caught whilst acting as a call girl. She'd have to set up a security detail, have someone guarding her at all times, she knew she could look after herself, but the powers above her wouldn't leave it at that. She stopped suddenly, only the noticing she'd begun pacing the room. She looked up and linked wide eyes with Jethro.

"They're going to all know." She didn't notice Gibb's confused face as she continued, her voice getting more frantic. "They're all going to know what I did, and they won't know it was an assignment because no one knows anymore. And they can't have a Director with a background like that, so I'll lose my job and I'll have to look for something else, except this is what I do, and I can't pick up another career at this age, but I'll have no choice…"

He listened as she talked in circles, her face becoming more and more panicked with every thought that entered her head. He hated seeing her so out of control. This wasn't his cool collected Jenny. He jumped slightly as the sound of springs, and looking around found Jen collapsed on the small couch, her head in her hands and her shoulders shaking suspiciously. The sound of a quiet sob was all he needed before moving quickly to her side. It was true that he wasn't good with words of comfort, but there was one thing that had never failed him when it came to calming Jen.

Seating himself beside her on the couch, he slowly slid his arms around her, pulling her body gently towards him. She didn't protest, instead she curled into him, hands gripping his shirt and her head buried in his chest.

She knew, even in this state that she would hate herself for this breakdown. She felt his arms resting across her back, felt his hand lay across the side of her waist, his fingers just touching her stomach, and she found herself calming. Her mind returned to the diary entry she'd been reading earlier, and she knew that he hadn't forgotten either. He still knew how to handle her.

The sound of his voice penetrated her mind, and she listened as he told her he'd protect her, that she had the best team on her side, and that most of all, they would make sure none of it got back to people it shouldn't.

She had stopped crying, her tears having dried in salty rivers down her cheeks, and she knew she should get up, move away from him and put on an air of professionalism once more, but she didn't want to, and Jethro didn't seem uncomfortable still wrapped around her. She'd stand up soon, dust herself off, and deal with everything the way a Director should. But really, what was a few more minutes?


	3. I'll Be Watching You

_Even if I made a vow,  
I promised I wouldn't miss you now._  
(Carrie Underwood, I Just Can't Live A Lie)

 

The scent of coffee filled her nose, pulling her from the blackness of sleep. Sleep. Jen sat up with a start. How could she have fallen asleep? She was the main target for assassination by a very annoyed ex marine, she was heading one of the largest agencies in America, she had a tonne of paperwork to get through, and she had fallen asleep. Her mind thought back; she had fallen asleep after breaking down and crying all over Jethro. She sighed heavily, rubbing her face with her hands; the day had started so promisingly too.

A low chuckle had her looking up into the face of a very amused Jethro Gibbs. Seeing her blank look, he held out a cup of coffee, still chuckling to himself.

"You never were good at waking up." There was a slight tilt to his voice, one she now associated with him remembering what they had once shared.

"No, but I was good at keeping certain people up all night." He smiled at her, and took a seat beside her. For a moment she just breathed in the coffee, enjoying the stimulation on her senses. After taking a long sip, the hot liquid seeming to set her blood alight as it travelled down her throat, she turned to Gibbs, an odd expression on her face. She had done the girly breakdown earlier, now was time for the Director in her to come forward.

"What do we do Jethro?"

Gibbs looked at her, she amazed him with her ability to put thoughts of personal danger behind her and face the problem at hand. In that way, they were so similar. She hadn't truly dealt with everything, but she had let enough of it go that she could function on what needed to be done. Gibbs took back the coffee, taking several sips himself as he thought over the plan he'd made whilst she slept.

"First, I need to know his name; we'll put a watch on all the ports; air and sea." He would do it, but he had a feeling in his gut that it was already too late for that. He was already in the US. Jen didn't need to know that though. "You'll have to be watched constantly…"

"Jethro, I can…"

He continued as though she hadn't interrupted. "but if you're right, and no one really knows about that Op, then we'll have to keep it between us and the team, so we'll go in shifts. You should be safe at work, but we'll make sure you're never alone, and outside of work…" He paused again, knowing she wouldn't take it well. "Jenny, he's been killing them in places they know, their own houses, favoured parks. He watches them and waits for the perfect opportunity. Someone is going to have to stay with you."

Jen sat there taking it in; of course she knew this would likely be the case. It's what she would have ordered happen were it anyone else. Still the thought of constantly being watched; of having them all inside her house, grieved her. DiNozzo would pull out her film collection, analyse her by what she watched, Ziva; though she had known her longer, had never been in her house, there were some things she liked to keep private, but that wouldn't happen any longer. McGee…she liked him, he was smart, and yet in some things still so innocent, but could she really see herself spending so much time with him without itching to pull out her gun? And then there was Gibbs himself. It was hard enough seeing him in work for the few minutes a day they were together, but pushed together for long stretches of time; she was afraid that it would be too like their time partnered. And just look how that had ended.

Still, it was all academic. Whether she _thought_ she could deal with them twenty four hours a day, she was going to have to anyway; Jethro had that look on his face that she knew meant he wouldn't back down. And really she knew she couldn't afford to fight against him.

Gibbs knew the moment Jen had finished her internal debate. Her shoulders, which had gradually fallen as the weight of everything pressed down on her, straightened and she gave a small nod, the only physical sign that she had her thoughts in order.

"Petty Officer James F Murrey." Her voice was clear, and she kept any emotions the name brought out in her deep inside.

"Are you sure?" He regretted the question as soon as her eyes flashed at him. She snatched the coffee from his hand and took a few large gulps.

"Of course I'm sure Jethro, I wasn't likely to forget that. You should know how good my memory is." She hadn't meant to let that last bit slip out, but when that smile reached his lips again, she was glad it had.

With a sigh she stood, straightening out her jacket, and pulling down the hem of her skirt where it had ridden up slightly while she slept. Taking a look at her watch, she found that she could only have slept for an hour, but still she felt more refreshed than she had in ages. She didn't want to think too hard on what that meant.

She heard Gibbs rise up behind her, and she turned to him, offering the almost empty coffee cup back to him. He shook his head.

"You need it more than me, besides, I'll make Tony run and get me one later." She laughed, and he paused enjoying the sound, his mind returning to Paris and how that laugh had been all he heard in the crowded restaurant.

"What do you want to do about the team?"

Jen's face turned serious again as she answered. "Do what you have to; I'll be down to fill in the blanks in a bit." He nodded, and with a slight brush of his hand against hers he left the office.

Jen looked at the file still open on her desk, there was no way she would be able to concentrate on that now, not while she knew Gibbs was briefing his team about her. Her gaze moved to the photograph still lying so innocently, and she held in a shudder. She would need to be strong if she was to survive this with both her life and heart in tact.

Gibbs found the team in Abby's lab, the first place he went to look. He'd trained them well it seemed.

"Hi Boss." Tony's eyes looked curious, he wanted to ask what his boss had been doing for the hour since he'd first seen the photograph, but he really didn't want another slap on the head.

"Gibbs!" Abby's voice came from behind him, and he turned his head slightly, amused at the way she seemed to be bouncing from station to station in the small lab. "Tony sent down my Caf-Pow, and all this evidence; is it Christmas already? I didn't get you anything." She pouted and both Tony and McGee chuckled lightly.

"Get me anything you can that will help me catch this guy, and I think we'll call it even."

"No Problemo Boss-man." Abby set to work once more, pulling out what he assumed was a night dress from the evidence box.

The others stared at him expectantly, and he thought that there was no better place to tell them what was going on, than right here; Abby would need to know eventually. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, he heard footsteps behind him, announcing Ducky's presence.

"Ah, Jethro, glad I found you here. I've just finished up with the autopsy of our Lady of the Night. From what I could gather, she wasn't just acting in the videos she made, and I think I have an explanation for how she could afford all those operations. Did you find anything more on the photograph?"

At the question Abby turned her full attention to them once again. "Photograph? There wasn't a photograph!" She seemed slightly frantic, searching around for the evidence that wasn't there. Looking down at his own empty hand, Gibbs realised he'd left it in Jen's office. He wasn't worried; she'd bring it down with her.

"Relax Abby, the photograph is on its way. There's things about this case that need to stay between us and this room, you hear me?" He looked at each of them, waiting for their nods of agreement before continuing.

"I spoke to the Director, and you were right DiNozzo, it was her in the picture." Before he could get any further, Tony interrupted, his voice speaking the words that should have stayed in his head.

"Gives a whole knew meaning to 'sleeping your way to the top.'"

"For your information, Agent DiNozzo, it was a secret operation run by Directors that are all either dead or retired." No one had heard Jen enter the room, and Tony gulped at the sound of her voice, and the glare he was getting from Gibbs.

"It is in no records, and I can assure you it helped in no way to getting me 'to the top', although it will likely make me fall." She turned away from Tony, not willing to admit that she was actually hurt by his words. "Jethro left this in my office Abby, I'm sure you'll be needing it." She handed over the photograph, carefully avoiding looking at Abby's face. "And now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

When she was gone, Tony looked around at them all cautiously. "I didn't know she was there! I wouldn't have said it if I had." His head snapped forward with the force of two hands hitting the back of his head.

When Ziva and Gibbs had lowered their hands again, Gibbs continued with what he had intended to say.

"Our guy is hunting for the woman that cost him his Commission and put him away for the past few years. Right now, he only has vague ideas about the location of all the women in that picture. He doesn't appear to know which one he wants, but as soon as he starts searching and finds the Director, he'll know and will come straight after her. I need someone with her at all times, but she is right that this would ruin her career if certain people got wind of it, so it's going to have to stay between us. We'll take shifts until we catch this guy. Are we all clear?" A round of nods, and Gibbs smiled satisfied.

"We have his name, McGee, I want you to find everything you can about Former Petty Officer James F Murray, any one he came in contact with before he went to jail, anyone he's seen since, I want his bank details, the place where he gets his clothes dry-cleaned. I want it all."

McGee jumped into action passing them all and logging into the nearest computer station. "On it Boss."

"DiNozzo, I want everything you can find about this Operation. If he got his hands on that photograph then there has to be something out there. But I swear, if anyone finds out about it you will be looking for a new job."

Tony shook at the fire behind the words, and rushed from the room. He was going to have to work really hard to make up for his earlier words.

Gibbs turned to the two woman and Ducky. "Abby, I want to you do what you do best, and get me everything you can. Ducky tell her everything you know about the body in your morgue and the two from before. Ziva, you are on first watch, catch up on some paperwork, but do it in the Director's office." Ziva nodded once soberly, before leaving the lab, pulling her gun from her waist, and checking it as she did so.

Seeing his team already hard at work, Gibbs left the lab himself, a stern expression on his face. He was going to make the Port authorities listen to him this time, whatever it took.

The two women worked in a comfortable silence. Neither needing to speak, and at some times even forgetting the other was there. That was something Jen had always liked about Ziva. You were not continuously bombarded with questions. She knew that the reason for that, in most cases, was because the former Mossad Agent already knew everything she wanted to. But even on those rare occasions that she didn't, she still wouldn't impose on anyone's right to privacy.

Her office door opened and in the same instant, Jen saw Ziva move, her gun slipping into her palm.

"Director, I'm done for the day. There's some more files ready for you to review, and SecNav want a conference tomorrow morning." Jen nodded her thanks and bade her secretary goodnight.

When the doors fell closed again, she looked down at the watch on her arm. Six thirty. Normally she would stay later, but there were no meetings, and her paperwork was all complete now; she'd felt better staying in one room today, not wanting Ziva following her round like a puppy.

Taking off her glasses, Jen rubbed a hand over her eyes. Ziva's "shift" would be over the moment she decided to go home, which meant that one of the others would be coming back to her house tonight. It wasn't hard to guess who would be taking that responsibility the first night of this protective watch she was under, and even as she tried to pretend she didn't know, the door opened again and Gibbs entered the Office.

He nodded to Ziva, who returned the action, and then looked over at Jen.

"Goodnight Director."

Before the Director could respond, Ziva had left the room, and Jen had no choice but to accept that Jethro would be spending the night with her. Inwardly she sighed. There was a time when those words would have meant so much more.

Not letting Gibbs have time to say anything, she stood, picking up her briefcase and placing a few left over files inside. She might as well do something productive, it wasn't as though she would get much sleep knowing he was in her house. Carefully, she slipped the diary in as well, hidden between several sheets of paper. She moved to grab her coat before coming to stand in front of him.

Gibbs watched her movements, slightly anxious himself. It had been a long time since he'd last been on a Protection Detail and he couldn't afford to be little rusty now. He refused to think about any other aspects of what he was about to do. Director Sheppard was his Superior and in a great deal of danger. He was merely doing his job, and if that entailed staying in her house for the night, so be it. He couldn't think of it any other way.

"Come on then Jethro, take me home." She winked at him as she passed by, walking out of the office. Gibbs watched her leave, trying to keep his eyes off the way her hips swayed as she moved. It was going to be a long night.


	4. Little Bit Of This, Little Bit Of That

_Look at me  
My depth perception must be off again  
It has not healed with time  
It just shot down my spine_  
(Rest In Pieces, Saliva)

 

The front door opened slowly, the key turning and the lock undoing producing an almost inaudible sound. Gibbs waited until the door was fully open before stepping through, his gun drawn. Jen sighed and attempted to push past him, irritated by his paranoia and him in general.

The entire drive home he had been quiet and evasive. She would ask him a general question; what he fancied for dinner, and he would give no more than a shrug or a grunt. She had tried one last time to get something more substantial out of him by asking what the team had found out, and received a noncommittal response that he would explain it all later. Finally she had given up and driven in silence the rest of the way home, taking a page from Jethro's book and driving as fast as she could.

Gibbs grabbed her arm, holding her in place behind him, and sending a dark glare her way. When Jen opened her mouth to object, he moved his hand from her arm to her mouth muffling the noise of outrage she made as well as her words. Turning her own death glare on Jethro, Jen gave in and fell into step behind him, finding it hard, in her anger, to keep her gun trained on anything but the back of his head.

She followed him as he checked and cleared every room on the first floor and had already dropped her bag and slid out of her coat when he went to look upstairs. For one moment she mind wondered what state her bedroom was in, she didn't think she'd be able to look at him if she knew he'd seen her underwear strewn about the place. She shook the irrational thoughts from her mind. This was Jethro Gibbs; in all the time they had been partners, he'd not so much as noticed that she had re-decorated twice, he was very unlikely to even realise he was in her bedroom.

Heading for the kitchen, Jen kicked her heels off and pulled her hair from the clip that held it in place, the red locks falling onto her shoulders and running down her back. Looking in the fridge, past the half empty boxes of take-out, she pulled out an already opened bottle of red wine. Grabbing two glasses from the overhead shelf she walked back out to the living room, hearing Gibbs' footfalls on the stairs as he made his way back down.

She met him at the couch and held out a glass, waiting while he finally re-holstered his gun. Gibbs shook his head at the offer, and watched with a disapproving frown as she filled her own glass and swallowed a few mouthfuls.

Seeing his look, Jen questioned. "What?"

"Do you really think you should be drinking? What if something were to happen while you were mentally incapacitated?"

Jen stared at him in shock for a moment, not quite believing the words had been spoken.

"Mentally incompa…it's one glass of wine Jethro. I'm not planning on breaking out a six pack and drinking until the floor spins. I've just had a part of the past that I'd rather forget brought crashing to my attention, I'm the target for murder by a man that has proved he can and will kill me for what I did and until he's caught or he's successful I'm going to be followed from work to the dry-cleaners by agents that don't like me at the best of times. If ever there were a moment to drink it's now Agent Gibbs." She finished by emptying her glass and turning away from him.

Gibbs was silent a moment, having not expected such a passionate response to his concern. "Dammit Jen I'm just trying to keep you alive, and I don't think that alcohol is in your best…"

"So keep me alive! Wave your gun in the air, check every room in the house for someone that has only just gotten into the country, if at all, and who, by your own admission waits and watches for days before striking, leave McGee sitting outside in his car all night 'just in case' but for God's sake Jethro, let me try to relax in the only way I know will work and stop treating me like I'm just another assignment."

After spluttering a moment, Gibbs moved over to where Jen had repositioned herself, peering out of the window onto the street outside.

"How did you know he was out there?"

Jen laughed lightly, the anger she felt disappearing, whether from the wine, or the true confusion in his voice it didn't matter.

"I haven't always sat behind a desk, kissing asses Jethro, I was a field agent once remember, and you taught me everything you knew."

She turned away from the window, pulling the curtains closed and blocking out the sight of McGee, his face lit by his laptop screen. Gibbs followed her with his eyes as she picked up the full glass of wine she'd offered him earlier and once again held it out to him.

"Come on Jethro, I know it's your favourite. Besides that paint remover you keep in your basement."

Turning a mock glare on her, Gibbs accepted the glass, taking a small sip and savouring the taste of the French bouquet.

"I'll have you know that that 'paint remover' is of the finest quality, it's not my fault you couldn't handle it."

Jen laughed. "I don't remember you complaining about the way I handled it. In fact the way I remember it, you were very very happy."

Gibbs smiled the smile Jen loved; the one that told her he was remembering too, and that she was so very right. This time, however, there was no work to get back to, no important question that still required an answer, so a silence fell over them and got more uncomfortable the longer it lasted.

Finally Jen couldn't stand it anymore, the thought of being so uncomfortable in her own house annoyed her, she and Jethro were the past, and that's where they needed to stay.

"Is chicken okay?" Seeing Gibb's blank look she re-iterated, already heading for the kitchen. "For dinner. You know food Jethro." She hoped he was happy with chicken; that was all she really had.

"Yes, yes that's fine." Jen left him in the living room and Gibbs finally took it all in.

The walls were a pale cream, squares of rust red paint were dotted around, matching the couch cushions and curtains. A tall bookcase lined the wall opposite the window, and Gibbs moved closer to study its contents. One shelf was dedicated to a movie collection that he was certain Tony would admire; another held a set of books edged in leather, the spines creased and bent from over-use. There was a gap in the set, and he looked at the writing along the sides to try to guess what they could be. His brow creased in a frown when all he found were dates and he reached out to pick up the first one when a picture frame caught his attention. Picking up the book anyway, he looked over at the picture, seeing a slightly younger version of himself wrapped around Jen, both their faces lit up in wide smiles.

Jen walked back in from the kitchen, a question on her lips, and found Gibbs staring at her bookcase. At first she was confused at what he could have found that so intrigued him, and as she moved closer, standing just behind him, she saw the picture they'd had taken six years earlier. Switching her attention to Jethro, she wondered at the nostalgic look on his face and opened her mouth to ask him what he was thinking when she caught sight of the book in his hand. For a moment her breath caught; what if he had that book, but then she remembered that it was still securely locked in her case. A quick glance at the shelf and she knew he'd taken the first of her diaries. While she knew that it didn't have any mention of him in it, and it most certainly wasn't the one she'd kept when undercover in London; that one had been burned shortly after her return, it was still private and she wasn't sure she wanted him reading it.

She took the book from his hand, choosing to ignore his slight jump when he realised she was there and the shocks that tingled up her arm as her fingers brushed his, and placed it once more on the shelf, straightening it back into place.

Gibbs watched her movements, knowing better than to ask why she didn't want him touching those books, but still wondering all the same.

"Vegetables or rice?" Jen asked the question she'd come in for, and at Gibbs' answer she returned to the kitchen again, trusting him not to look where he shouldn't.

Jen pushed her empty plate away, and before she could say anything, Gibbs had lifted it up with his own and disappeared into the kitchen.

"Watch out for the…" She was cut off by a loud crash and rushed to check on him.

Gibbs sat on the kitchen floor cradling his left hand, pieces of broken plate lay scattered around him. His eyes were focussed on the kitchen mop as he tried to set it alight with telepathy.

Suddenly Jen broke into laughter, unable to stop herself; the undefeatable Jethro Gibbs had been out witted by a cleaning appliance. Gibbs moved his glare from the mop to her, as she bent down, offering her hand, giggles still escaping her lips.

"It's not funny Jen." But as he accepted the help getting up, his own lips twisted into an amused smile.

"It's a little bit funny Jethro." She squeezed his hand, before reaching down to start picking up the remains of her crockery, Gibbs following.

Both stopped as Jethro let in a sharp breath, having forgotten that he'd landed on his wrist. Gently, Jen raised his left hand studying the slight swelling already present. She pressed down softly on his wrist, and he pulled his hand back with a hiss. Jen looked up and him and glared.

"Don't be a baby Jethro, we both know you've had worse injuries. Now let me look at it." She held out her hand, palm up and looked at him expectantly. With a defeated sigh, he placed his hand in hers once more, ignoring the feel of her skin on his.

"Well, it's not broken." Gibbs threw her a look that said he could have told her that, but she didn't look up at him and so it was wasted on the overhead cabinet. "But since I know how much you despise hospitals, and how you're not going to rest it, I'll wrap it in a bandage for the night." Before he could respond she had already reached into a cupboard and pulled out a roll of gauze. With soft touches she wrapped and secured his wrist before looking up to the pout on his lips.

"What?"

"You didn't kiss it better." She stared at him in shock a moment, before slapping his arm lightly.

"Get out of here Jethro, I need to clear up your mess."

"I could help." His offer was met with a raised eyebrow.

"I think you've helped enough. Go sit and guard me from the living room."

When she walked into the living room, the kitchen cleaned and new plates pulled to the front of the cupboards, she expected to find Gibbs watching the CNN news report, or checking the room for any kind of bugging devices. What she did find, was the TV blaring to an unknowing audience of one that seemed to have fallen asleep, his right hand on the gun at his hip. Jen looked down at him; even sleeping, his face still held the same slight frown, as though even there he wasn't truly relaxed.

She was hesitant to wake him, he obviously needed the sleep if he was doing it now, when he felt it was so important to guard her, but she knew from experience that the couch, and more especially the position he was in, was going to leave him aching all over in the morning.

With a small sigh, Jen knelt down on the floor in front of him, laying her arms on his knee. She'd done this so often all those years ago. Bend down there to wake him, it would only take the pressure of her arms on his legs for him to snap awake. If it were a weekend, or the end of a long day off, then he'd lean down and pull her lips to his own, but if he were sleeping off a hard shift, he'd do just the same as he did now.

Jen sat completely still as Gibbs' gun swung into view. He had never once shot her in all their time together and she hadn't lost that trust in him.

"Damn Jen. I could have shot you." Gibbs was angrier at himself for sleeping on the job, than for drawing his gun on her.

Jen pushed herself to her feet again. "You always said that, and it hasn't happened yet." Walking around the room she switched off the lamps and collected her bag. Turning back to Jethro she tilted her head slightly.

"Coming to bed?"

For a moment Gibbs was thrown. Had she really just asked that?

Jen was thinking the same thing, not believing those words had slipped from her mouth. She'd been thinking those and intending to voice some similar but with extremely important differences. Obviously the wine was affecting her more than she had thought it would.

"In the Guest Bedroom. The couch isn't comfortable for spending a night on, as I'm sure you remember, and I have a perfectly good second bedroom for you."

Gibbs sighed inwardly. Of course that's what she had meant. Had he really thought it would be anything else? Perhaps he had spent a little too many years around DiNozzo.

"I'm not sleeping Jen. I'm here to make sure you can sleep and still wake up again."

With those words he stood to peak through the curtains, seeing that McGee had followed his orders to the letter and gone for the night.

"Well you were doing a rather good impression of sleeping just then Jethro." Jen couldn't believe he wouldn't even let this go. He was obviously tired, why did he have to be so stubborn?

Gibbs opened his mouth to respond yet again that it was his job and he took it seriously, when Jen held out her hand to stop him.

"Forget it. Goodnight Agent Gibbs, the coffee is where it's always been." And then she was gone from the room, and he heard her light footsteps on the stairs.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Gibbs settled back on the couch, hand on his gun and pulled out the picture he'd taken from her bookshelf before his impromptu nap.

Had they really been that happy?

Jen growled in annoyance as she flung her briefcase on the bed. That Man. Taking several deep breaths she undressed with angry movements before settling herself up against the head board. Pulling out the files from her case, she felt the diary drop onto her lap. Looking between that and the files she didn't know what to choose. It probably wasn't the best idea to revisit her time with Gibbs whilst he was only a floor below, but she knew enough to know she wouldn't be able to concentrate on the cases either.

Placing her glasses on her nose, she picked up the diary and opened it to a random entry, she had all night to work on the case files after all.

 

_"I've got a whole new appreciation for rivers now. Our latest crime scene was by the river bank, and of course, the witness insisted that he heard something being thrown into the water. So he went in. He came out dripping, his shirt sticking to his body, and I could see everything. He's so well built. This attraction was supposed to be over now. It's been months working with him, and it's still there. I'm sure he can see it, I'm sure everyone can see it. And now he flirts with me. Little touches and smiles that are affecting me in ways I can't describe and don't think I want to. Is it wrong to hate a woman that I've never met? Because I do. I hate his wife, because in my head I've decided she's the only thing keeping us apart. Of course that's completely ridiculous and I know that there's so much more to it than that, but at night, when he visits me in my dreams, the only thing I know is that he doesn't have a wife then. And then he will take me in his arms, he'll kiss me the way he always does, with so much passion, and he'll roll us over, raking his eyes over me in a way that sends every part of my body on fire. His breath is hot puffs on my neck as he whispers things I don't need to hear for my body to respond and I'd give anything for him to be real, and he tells me he is before his hands slide up my sides, and I believe him every time. And every time my alarm wakes me, and I have to spend another day watching him and glaring at the gold band on his finger._

I'll get over it. I know I will. It's just taking longer than I expected that's all."


	5. Everybody Hurts

_Maybe I am,  
Hiding in my own confusion,  
Maybe I don't want to see it  
The way it really is_  
(The Way It Really Is, Lisa Loeb)

 

Jen woke up to the sound of coffee grounding and the smell of bacon. For a moment she was confused as the last remnants of sleep left her, and she tried to recall who it could be in her house. Jethro.

Pulling herself out of bed, Jen threw on a robe, running a brush through her hair attempting to tame it a little. Giving up, she grabbed a band and twisted it all into a loose bun, red tendrils falling softly to frame her face.

Entering her kitchen she paused a moment in the doorway, watching Gibbs move about as though he'd been there every morning. The table had been laid; knives and forks positioned at both ends and a collection of sauces, butter and a small stack of toast lay in the centre. The toaster popped and Gibbs reached over to pull out another two slices. In one movement he slid the bacon out of the frying pan and onto a plate and spun around to drop the extra toast onto the table. Looking up as he reached behind him for the plate of bacon he wasn't surprised to see Jen standing there watching him.

"Your breakfast Madame Director." At first Jen thought that he was still acting as he was the night before, but then she caught sight of his smile as he turned to get their coffee's and she accepted her place. As he sat down in front of her and started helping himself to toast, she wondered whether he was this domestic with the other agents, or if she was just lucky.

"So who's the unlucky agent watching me today?" Jen asked as she showed her badge at the front entrance. When they were both through and heading for the elevator, Gibbs finally answered.

"McGee and Abby."

The doors closed and the elevator started moving. Within a second she had hit the emergency stop.

"McGee and _Abby?_ Abby's not a Field Agent Gibbs." Jen looked at him for an explanation. It was bad enough that he wouldn't discuss any aspects of the "case" with her, but now to expect her to be watched by the forensic scientist. That was asking for a little too much under blind faith.

"I know that Jen. But McGee is busy looking up everything he can on Murray and that means he's been spending all his time down with Abby. Somehow he seems to work better down there." He looked confused for a moment, he'd never been able to so much as think when in the lab, Abby's constant loud music didn't allow for it. "So that means that you need to be down there too." He turned to the Director as she considered his words. He did make sense, and she really didn't want to pull McGee from what he was doing.

"I guess I could do the employee checks. I was going to leave it to the end of the month, but I'll start with the lab personnel." Gibbs grinned at her and pressed the button for the elevator to resume its descent. When the doors opened, he stepped through first and it wasn't until the doors started losing that he was the only one to leave it.

"But first, I have a private conference with SecNav." The doors shut on her smug grin and Gibbs shook his head. She had always done that when they were partners, he couldn't believe he'd forgotten. She wouldn't be in any danger he was sure; MTAC was about the most secure place in the building. Still; if McGee didn't report back to him within two hours that she was down there with them, then he'd start worrying. For now, he had to make sure Agents David and DiNozzo were not annoying each other and actually working.

"Wow this guy was a good shot. I mean, there were no other bullets found in the room, and the one bullet hit straight in the centre of her head. It's like it was drawn to the third eye, I wonder if he's in touch with the spirits and they somehow directed him to shoot there…" Abby trailed off, her mind filled with her own suppositions.

"He was a Sniper." Jen spoke without lifting her head from the paper in front of her.

Both Abby and McGee jumped slightly, having forgotten she was even there. McGee quickly scanned the room, worrying that Gibbs might have seen. He only had two jobs; find out everything about the suspect, and guard the Director. Though both were crucial he had a feeling that if he failed at the latter the boss would kill him.

"A Marine Sniper. Wasn't…"

"…Jethro the same? Yes." Jen finished Abby's question, this time looking up and capping her pen. "But they never worked together, he'd have remembered."

Rising from the stool she'd claimed hours before, Jen moved to stand behind the two, looking at the screens one after the other, which each showed a close up of the autopsy photograph detailing the third victim's wound.

"You two have been pretty quiet for the last hour; what have you got so far?" She knew much of what they had found. Since coming down here, Jen had been surprised almost every five minutes by an exclamation from either the Forensic Scientist or the young Field Agent. For a while she'd simply sat and watched the way the two worked together. They finished each other's sentences, announcing the thoughts of the other without a second thought, and in that one moment of excitement induced adrenaline she'd been amazed to see how their body's blended together, their hands working as if from one source to decode files together. She couldn't help but wonder if there was more to their friendship than met the eye. Then, as the two had settled into a quite routine, each researching and analysing their own projects, the peace only interrupted occasionally by one poking the other with the unabashed humour of school children, Jen had turned her attention to the reports she needed to get done. Time had passed slowly, as one report after another was completed, and discoveries were made by the two member team, almost subconsciously she'd been listening as they spoke to themselves and each other.

"Well, there seems to be no order to the way he picks his victims." Abby began, picking up the photograph. "It's obvious he did a primary check on each victim, as he only went after those still in London." She paused and McGee jumped in.

"Murrey's been in Europe since his release two months ago. He went straight after the woman still remaining in England, before going after the others that don't reside there." McGee paused, changing the picture on the plasma screen to show the hated photograph. He moved to stand in front of it, pointing as he emphasised his points. "Miranda Richardson died of Cancer three years ago, after returning to her family home in Germany. We're assuming he knows this, as he has made no effort to go to Germany." The picture flashed, the images of dead women fading to nothing, until only three remained.

"We've already sent some Agents to watch Miss Racheal Francias." He pointed to a short brunette whose frozen smile failed to reach her crystal blue eyes. "But as yet we can't find the last woman, she's listed here as 'Isabelle Thomas' but nothing has come up, except a birth certificate, and a few hits on her Criminal Record. We know that she came back to America two years ago, but she seems to have disappeared since then." McGee finally finished, and Abby, who had been unusually quite during his speech, finally spoke up again.

"We're running everything we can to try and find her, and it could be that her apparent non-existence will slow down Murrey's search for her too." She looked about to say more, but Tim's quite comment stopped her.

"That is assuming he'll even begin his search with her. If he starts his next search for you, then he's going to find out where you work straight away, and then there won't be any point in him searching for anyone else." Jen had a sudden feeling of dread, she was certain she didn't want to listen to anything McGee would say next. Abby was also looking like she expected something awful. The male Agent didn't notice the tense atmosphere building, and continued on unfazed. "In fact, if you think about it, he could have started his first search with any of the names on that list. If he had started with you Director, then the others probably wouldn't even have died."

Distantly, Jen was sure she heard Abby's sharp intake of air, but the sound was cloudy and floated just out of her reach until she was sure she'd imagined it. McGee's last words hit her with the force of a train, the wheels grinding into her brain, the squeal of breaks as her last defences tried to keep the prospect of pain away, and then it was on her, like a waterfall of freezing realisation. _They were all dead because of her._

The shivering started first, and she wrapped her arms around herself in a hopeless quest for warmth needed bone deep. Three women dead; all because she had done her job well. The guilt built up inside her, settling like a tonne of bricks in her stomach, rising up as her mind drifted to the images of the woman, their bodies cold and still, their mortal wounds clean, clear; precise. As the guilt rose to her throat, she could feel the beginnings of her lunch following, and without even acknowledging the two people in the room, she ran for the door, and out into the hallway. She could barely see past the corpses in her mind, even as she headed for the nearest bathroom, one hand covering her mouth, the other reaching blindly in front of her. She didn't notice the figures in the corridor, not even after pushing straight through them, almost crashing them both to the floor, did she show any knowledge that they were there, and before either could make a comment, she was gone, swallowed by the restroom door that clicked shut behind her.

For a moment Gibbs just stood in the corridor, his eyes flicking from the lap entrance to the restroom and back again, following the frantic route of his former partner. He'd never seen Jen looking so unhinged. _What the hell had happened?_

Knowing the best way to get answers, Gibbs squared his shoulders and continued his walk to the lab, Tony trailing behind him, confusion swirling in his eyes.

The sight that met them when the glass doors slide open would have been amusing had they not just seen the Director running from the room. McGee had his face turned down, his hands hung low at his sides, and he flinched at almost every one of Abby's words.

"…the most insensitive thing you've ever done Timothy McGee! Do you even know what you told her? You just about said it was her fault! I can't believe someone like you would even…" Her tirade was cut off when she saw Tony and Gibbs standing in the doorway, various expressions crossing their faces as they tried to make sense of what they had heard.

Jethro recovered first, anger taking dominance of his features as he took one step towards McGee, followed by another, and another, until he stood only inches away.

"What did you say to her?" His voice was hard and sharp, and McGee felt the question drag the words out of him.

"I, um, I…we were discussing the victims, and what we had found out, and I, well…" He couldn't form the words fast enough, and in exasperation, Abby interrupted.

"He told the Director that if Murrey had searched for her first the others wouldn't have died." That said, she redirected her eyes to glare at McGee again, and he dropped his gaze to the floor once more, his shoulders slumping and a sigh of defeat and fear slipping past his lips.

The rational part of Gibbs knew that McGee hadn't meant any offence by the absently thrown statement, but the part of him that still saw the panic in _his_ Jenny's eyes wanted to hit the boy until he bleed. He could imagine how Jen reacted to that statement. He'd seen part of the reaction after all. A battle raged within him. He wanted to check on Jen, to make sure she was alright, but he also needed to know about the case, and to tell them about the newest development. At the thought of the new body laying in the Morgue, combined with the guilt he knew Jen was already feeling, his mind was made up for him. There really was only one choice. Placing a glare of his own on the unseeing 'Probie', satisfied when he seemed to hunch further just feeling his boss's eyes on him, Gibbs spun around, racing from the room and heading for where he knew Jen would still be.

At the sound of fading footsteps, McGee looked up, just in time to be hit with slaps from both Abby and McGee. Leaving him to rub the sore points on his head, Abby turned to Tony, a question on her black lips.

"So what brought you and Gibbs down here?" Tony gave the younger agent one last look, before explaining what he and Gibbs had come down to say.

"We think that Murrey found Isabelle Thomas."

He opened the door slowly, carefully. He was certain no one used this particular set of toilets except Abby, but you never knew, and he didn't want to risk shocking a lot of female agents. Not today. He wasn't sure what he would find. After years as partners, he'd seen the Director in many different states of distress, from vomiting into a bin after her first autopsy to huddling into herself in a corner of their room tears pouring as she realised she'd killed on her first shot, not even giving a chance for survival. But as he stepped into the near empty bathroom he had to say that she truly did still have the ability to shock him.

Her body was pressed up against the counter, the taps of the sink in front of her both on, the cold water splashing together with the hot creating a veil of steam that rose up out of the basin, providing a ghost's curtain between herself and her reflection. She clutched a used tissue in her hand, and dripping of water off of her face gave evidence that her lunch had definitely made a reappearance, but that didn't surprise Gibbs. No it was her eyes that had made him stop to recover himself. The blank emptiness that had him forgetting just how oxygen exchange worked. Sparkling with laughter, frozen in fear, passionate, dangerous, panicked. He'd seen so many emotions in those dark green eyes, but never had he seen them devoid of life like they were now.

Somehow he pulled himself out of the trance he'd fallen into, and moved to stand beside her, forcing himself to keep looking into her eyes. He searched for any sign that she knew he was there, anything that would show him it was all a joke, and that she was fine really. He couldn't find it. Reaching out, he laid a hand on her arm, alarmed to feel it shaking beneath him. It was only then that he turned his gaze from her eyes to look her over, worried when he saw that the trembles were not only in her arm.

"Jenny?" Her mouth opened at his concerned call, but as he listened to her words, he knew that she was still unaware of his presence.

"My fault, it's my fault, should have been me, my fault, me…" She continued on, an endless mantra of torment, that Gibbs knew he had to break.

Taking both of her upper arms in his hands, he forcibly turned her away from the mirror until her unseeing eyes were fixed on his own. Each word was emphasised by a shake as he attempted to reach her.

"It is not your fault! Do you hear me Jen? It wasn't your fault!" It seemed that he had gotten through to her, at least partially as she had once again fallen silent. It wasn't much, but it was better than hearing the ragged sound of those baseless allegations falling from her lips. McGee wasn't going to know what had hit him when he next saw him. It didn't matter whether the young agent's intentions had been harmful or not, he was going to pay.

"Damn Jen, snap out of it! You've faced worse than this before, and you've stayed strong." Gaining no response, and still seeing little life in those painful eyes, Gibbs reacted in frustration and unadulterated worry, pulling her unresisting body towards his own, hugging her closely as he spoke into her hair. Gradually he lowered them both to the tiled floor, as he continued to recall times long past.

"Do you remember that mission in Serbia? After it, when we were trapped in that little farmhouse with the Monopoly game that was missing a die. Do you remember how we passed the time? The mornings when we would just lay together." He brought a hand up to touch the short red strands that his mouth was brushing against. "You're hair was brown then, wasn't it? But you know I always preferred it red." He paused, feeling her shift slightly beside him, only then noticing that the shivers had stopped.

"I know. Just as I liked yours longer." Her voice was rough, but steady, and Gibbs pulled back slightly. Slowly she followed suit, raising her head to bring her eyes in line with his own. Eyes that held a spark of something he couldn't identify, but it didn't matter, because it was there.

In front of his eyes she pulled herself together, although there was still a sense of guilt surrounding her, and stood from the floor, holding out her hand to help him up. He mused as he too stood, that in the past two days he'd spent more time on the floor than his aging body liked. He didn't release her hand as she turned for the door, causing her to pause and look back at him in confusion. A gentle tug and she moved closer again.

"It wasn't your fault Jen. There was nothing you could have done." She nodded at the fierce determination in his voice, even if the words did little to sooth her guilt. She was guilty, at least partially, but she would just have to live with that, and make sure that the Bastard paid for each life he took.


End file.
